User:Millerhr/Sandbox

RODERIGO
Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.

IAGO
'SBlood, but you will not hear me: If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.

RODERIGO
Thou told’st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.

IAGO
Despise me, if I do not. Thee great ones of the city, In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, Off-capp’d to him: and, by the faith of man, I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, Evades them, with a bombast circumstance Horrible stuff’d with epithets of war; And, in conclusion, Nonsuits my mediators; for, ‘Certes,’ says he, ‘I have already chose my officer.’ And what was he? Forsooth, a great arithmetician, One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, A fellow almost damn’d in a fair wife; That never set a squadron in the field, Nor the division of a battle knows More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, Wherein the toged consuls can propose As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practice, Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds Christian and heathen, must be be-lee’d and calm’d By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, And i—God bless the mark!—his Moorship’s ancient.